The Pretend Girlfriend (A Billionaire Love Story #1)(42)

"Can you take me home, please?" Gwen said.

Aiden told the driver to get them back to her building as quickly as possible.

They stayed quiet for a while, the two of them listening to the muffled rush of the road beneath the tires.

Gwen hugged herself, chewing on her bottom lip. That had really shaken her, she realized. Much more than she thought it would. She figured that she'd managed to convince herself that maybe Henry wasn't as bad as he seemed, that maybe he'd go easy, considering that Aiden was his son.

What else did he have planned?

She began doubting herself, her motivations and feelings. That vehemence she'd felt earlier, trying to convince both herself and Aiden that they could get through this interview and that she could then get on to getting him to admit that he did really like her.

That just didn't ring true, not at that moment at least. What if Beatrice was wrong? Gwen had seen just in the last hour or so how Aiden could change the way he acted to best suit the situation. Maybe he'd been looking at her when they were at Starbucks just for Beatrice's benefit. Maybe all Beatrice had seen was exactly what he'd wanted her to see.

I am in so far over my head, she thought. Henry Manning was clearly a master manipulator. And Aiden himself had admitted that Henry taught him at least some of his methods.

She felt caught up in so many lies that she could no longer discern them from the truth, and that frightened her. Looking down, she saw that lovely shimmering dress she wore. Even that was a lie! It didn't belong to her. She wondered how many months of rent it might have cost. And Aiden had given it to her to make her look a certain way, to make people perceive her how he wanted them to.

Was all this really worth a maybe? The maybe in question going along the lines of: Maybe Aiden really does like me the way I like him.

The car stopped, and she saw the front entrance of her building all lit up inside. She couldn't remember the trip, aside from the blur of the dotted line on the road.

Aiden opened her door for her, and when she put one foot on the ground her heel panged. "I hate these stupid shoes!"

Managing to leave several runs in her pantyhose in the process, Gwen pulled the heels off. They dangled from her finger for a moment before she threw them back in the car. She never wanted to see them again.

The sidewalk felt cool against the soles of her feet. Aiden started following her towards the door. "I think we should talk about this," he said.

She spun around and put her hand on his chest, stopping him. With her heels off, she couldn't help noting how tall he was, and that, like just about everything else, bugged her.

"No. We're done talking. I am going up to my apartment to try and forget about tonight. And you aren't going to bother me, contract or no. That means no texts, no calls, and especially no more deliveries! If anything, and I mean anything, happens before noon tomorrow I am done with this, and I don't care about the consequences. Money can't fix everything, you know." She'd been jabbing him in the chest with her finger at just about every syllable. Her finger hurt. Was he wearing a metal plate under his shirt or something?

"Sleep well," Aiden said, seeing how irritated she was.

She hated that about him. Any other guy might argue. But any other guy couldn't size up the situation and see there was no winning with her in a mood like that.

And some part of her recognized that she really was upset beyond proportion with the situation. But she couldn't help it. It was all the stress of this whole thing coming out. She'd been bottling it up; it had to come out somehow.

"Nobody talks like that," she said, watching Aiden started back to the limo. He didn't respond. How could he be so cool and collected? She needed to get some sort of reaction out of him.

"You're just like your father, you know that?"

That did it. Aiden jerked to a stop, his shoulders hunching up. Gwen felt the thrill of triumph, followed quickly by wave of nausea. Even in her irrationally angry state, she recognized that was stepping over the line. That same irrational anger kept her from apologizing right away, and instead she just fumed, watching him get back into the car and drive away.

Up in her bedroom, she tore the dress taking it off. The zipper got caught about halfway down and in her frustration she just tore it off by main force. This left a jagged rent in the shimmering material beside the zipper where it gave way.

Again, she felt a pang of guilt and nausea. Aiden had told her she looked good in that dress.

She threw it into the corner along with the rest of the laundry she still needed to get done.

From there, it was straight to bed to try and forget about the way Aiden had flinched like she'd hit him when she compared him to his father.

It felt like she'd just closed her eyes and started to doze when her cell started ringing and buzzing.





Chapter 15


Her first thought was Aiden disregarding her threat to try and talk to her.

She rolled over to look at the clock. It was five in the morning! She couldn't remember going to sleep. Some weak morning light made the shadows around the window fuzzy.

Gwen sat up, rubbing at her eyes. An awful taste coated her tongue, and it felt like someone was trying to push her right eyeball out from behind with a sharp knife.

She stood up, thinking that no one should be awake this early unless they were farmers or being subjected to torture.